


Put Me Under Your Spell

by parentaladvisorybullshitcontent



Series: Astronaut AU [3]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Astronaut AU, Christmas, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 13:15:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8981227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/parentaladvisorybullshitcontent/pseuds/parentaladvisorybullshitcontent
Summary: Dan wants to brag about Phil. He wants to tell everyone how brilliant and funny and clever his boyfriend is, how he looks at Dan in this way that nobody's ever looked at him before, how he buys Dan gross black flowers and doesn't expect anything from him except for him to be himself, even when that self is frequently unreliable and lazy and anxious.
In which astronaut Phil gets back from Mars in time for Christmas.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I FINALLY FINISHED IT. This is a total MESS, guys. It's a sentimental cheese-filled wreck feat. Christmas and I'm very sorry. But I hope you all enjoy it anyway <3 
> 
> Third part in the astronaut au series. I don't think you need to have read the others??? Basically Phil's an astronaut and Dan's his bf, it's not that deep
> 
> Title from Talk About You by MIKA, which I 100% rec bc it always makes me think of D&P 
> 
> I hope you all have a great holiday season <3 <3 <3 so sorry about any mistakes - I'll be back to fix them in the morning I promise ^^ 
> 
> also omg, I've been putting off this shameless self promo for so long but I have tumblr! find me at parentaladvisorybullshitcontent for, well, my url speaks for itself amirite

Dan's December gets off to a bad start when he accidentally destroys half of his Christmas decorations.

“ _Accidentally_ ,” Phil says, during one of their satellite calls. “You know, if you hate Christmas that's fine, right? I'm still gonna – still gonna be into you, you know, you don't have to be all like, _oh, it was an_ accident-”

“Phil,” Dan says. “I didn't purposely destroy them, alright? I got tangled in the lights when I was getting everything out, that's all.” He pauses then adds, “That's what she said,” just as Phil says it too.

Phil laughs.

“Dunno why I put up with you,” Dan says, grinning, even though he knows exactly why.

“Thought it was my wit and dashing good looks.”

“Hmm. And your modesty, too.”

“Oh, yeah,” Phil says, waving a hand. “I've got tons of that.” They smile at each other for a moment – it's the kind of moment that Dan misses the most when he's away. “So you're gonna have to buy all new decorations, then?”

Dan sighs.

“Looks like it,” He says. “I think the tree's salvageable, and maybe the tinsel, but that's it. Can you – can you just come home and we can share your decorations?”

He means it as a joke, but he ends up sounding pathetic and wistful.

“As soon as I can,” Phil says, softly. “I'll be back, ok?”

Dan nods. “I know,”

He says, weakly.

-

He ends up going to Tesco on the way home, blundering through the festive aisles and throwing baubles haphazardly into his basket. It's only when he's dragged the bags home that he realises two things.

One, he doesn't have anything in to eat, and two, he's overwhelmingly picked fuzzy little animal baubles, which he knows Phil will love.

He orders a pizza and drags a blanket out of his bedroom, lying slumped on the sofa.

_Tell me i'm not moping_ , he sends to PJ.

_:(_ , PJ sends back. _He's back soon. Be happy, it's christmas_

Dan sighs, and reaches for another slice of pizza. The fuzzy animal baubles are lined up on the coffee table, watching him with their strange bead eyes.

“It's Christmas,” He says out loud, and takes a bite of pizza.

-

“So,” PJ says. “Are you and Phil gonna come to the office Christmas party?”

Dan's been down in the archives all day – and really, he thought being trained for superior tech status would mean his archives time would be behind him, but apparently the Commander's so impressed with his _organisational skills_  that she wants to _put him to good use while he's still a regular tech_.

He thinks he should be forgiven, then, for thinking he's hearing things when PJ sits down opposite him in the bright white cafeteria and asks him... _that_.

“Sorry?”

“Christmas party,” PJ repeats, helpfully. “You and Phil.” When Dan groans, he just talks over him. “It's on the 16th, so he'll be back by then, and it's gonna kind of be a, like, celebrating the mission _and_ celebrating Christmas kind of thing.”

“Oh God...”

"And there's gonna be music, and mistletoe – not that you guys'll need any encouragement, probably – and – and basically I hate everyone else who works here and I _have_ to go, so it'd be great if you guys came too.”

Dan sighs, rubbing his eye and smiling a little at the over-exaggerated sad look on PJ's face, bottom lip sticking out like a sulky kid.

“I hate office parties,” He says.

“Me too,” PJ says, immediately. “Please.”

“I – I'll ask Phil,” Dan says, with a shrug, taking a sip of coffee. “I mean – he might not want to-”

“I asked him about it yesterday,” PJ interrupts, grinning like the Cheshire cat. “He sounded pretty interested in going.”

“Oh my _God_ ,” Dan says.

-

“Hey hey hey hey _heeeeey_ ,” Phil says as soon as the call starts. “Oh wow, you look really good today.”

“I – I really don't,” Dan says, flattening down his hair and pulling a face. “Are you feeling alright, you're very...” He pauses, looking for the right word, and ends up grinning just because of the way Phil's smiling and looking into the camera. “Happy? I dunno.”

“What, you want me to be miserable?” Phil teases. When Dan doesn't say anything, he adds, “I dunno, I'm just ready to come home. And, like, it's Christmas. And you look good, and – and I might have overdone it on coffee today, maybe.”

“Of course you did,” Dan says, his voice soft with fondness. He's just glad he gets to use the solo control room now, so there's no chance of any of the other techs walking in and seeing him using expensive communications equipment to make heart eyes at Phil.

“Peej said it all needs to be used up. It's not gonna be viable for the next mission or something,” Phil says, fingers drumming against his workstation.

“So you decided to drink it all at once,” Dan says, rolling his eyes a little. Phil's hair's sticking up, like he's been running his hands through it, and he can barely sit still in his chair, and Dan wants nothing more than to be able to reach out and hold his fidgeting fingers still.

“I like coffee,” Phil says. “You know that, right? I really like coffee.”

“I know,” Dan says, laughing. There's been a jar of the stuff sitting in the back of his kitchen cupboard at home for weeks, untouched since Phil left again. “God, I – I miss you.”

He doesn't mean to say it like that – just come out with it, but it feels like the words were waiting on his tongue all along. And he does miss Phil. He misses him every day - every time he automatically slips his phone out of his pocket to text him, every time he sees those white chocolate chip cookies he likes while he's out shopping, every time he wakes up in the morning and reaches out across the bed for someone who's millions of miles away.

“Oh no,” Phil says. “I'm all, like, hyped on the caffeine, don't do the sad eyes at me.”

“I'm not doing the sad eyes!” Dan protests, even though he probably is. He forces out a smile, then changes it into a grimace, going cross eyed and sticking his tongue out to make Phil laugh. “So you don't miss me at all, then.”

Phil just gives him a look. “I really do,” He says, sincerely. “Really. So much that I – let's not talk about it, I don't want – I'm in a good mood, it'd be daft if I, like, started missing you when you're right there, you know?”

“I know,” Dan says, even though he wishes Phil was with him so much that it sort of hurts. “D'you want to see the pictures I took of all the Christmas decorations I saw on the way into work?”

“Oh my God, yes,” Phil says, shuffling closer to the monitor. Dan's focused on scrolling through the photos on his phone, but he smiles down at them so hard his face aches.

-

“Oh, I meant to ask,” Dan says, much later. It's been long enough that the caffeine's worn off and Phil's getting tired, hiding yawns unsuccessfully behind his hand. Dan's reaching the worst part of the evening – the part where he has to say goodbye and endure the lonely hydroshuttle ride home. “Did you tell Peej we'd go to the office Christmas party?”

Phil yawns and says, “Oh, yeah. I think so? I always go.”

“Of course you do,” Dan says, fondly, under his breath.

He watches the way Phil's blinking sleepily, rubbing his fingertips across the back of his hand. He always does stuff like that when he's really tired – usually it's Dan doing it for him, stroking his fingers back and forth on his wrist or his palm, because the repetitive motions soothe him somehow. Dan just likes touching Phil, if he's honest – likes the way he leans into him when he's sleepy, all warm and affectionate like a happy cat, wanting to be touched.

“You don't mind, do you?” Phil's saying. “I just – I mean, I didn't mean to agree for you, I just – I kind of want everyone to know that, like, we're there together. You know? I want...I want to make sure everyone knows that we're – we're _us_.” He ducks his head. “I dunno. It's stupid.”

Dan swallows. He hadn't been expecting that – he'd been expecting some joke about free booze or mistletoe.

“It's not stupid,” He says, quietly. Then, after a pause, he lets out an amused breath and says, “Now _you're_ doing the sad eyes at _me_.”

“I really am,” Phil says, but he smiles. “Home soon.”

“I know,” Dan says, sighing. “Seven days.”

“Seven days,” Phil repeats, sounding so wistful that Dan can't even look at him for a moment.

Seven days can't pass soon enough.

-

Something they haven't discussed yet are their plans for Christmas. Dan knows that Phil's parents are going on some holiday until the 29th – a present from Phil and his brother – but he thinks Phil mentioned going back up north to visit them before they leave. He doesn't know if Phil wants Dan to go with him, or if he was just telling him about the trip so he'd know beforehand.

The last thing Dan wants to do is assume anything. He hates the thought of being pushy and making Phil feel uncomfortable.

And then there's the problem of his own parents – his mum, with whom he's still playing _the pronoun game_. On one hand it's a relief that she knows he's with _someone_ (that he's not as romance-repellent as she'd once thought), but on the other the vagueness feels like a lie.

It _is_ a lie – he's not with _someone_ , he's with _Phil_ , and every time his parents use female pronouns over the phone to refer to his _partner_ he feels himself flinch.

It's not fair to Phil. He _knows_ that. Phil deserves better than someone who's too cowardly to brag to their mum about him.

Because that's what he should be doing – that's what he _feels_ like doing, he wants to brag about Phil. He wants to tell everyone how brilliant and funny and clever his _boyfriend_ is, how he looks at Dan in this way that nobody's ever looked at him before, how he buys Dan gross black flowers and doesn't expect anything from him except for him to be himself, even when that self is frequently unreliable and lazy and anxious.

Instead, Dan bites his thumbnail and says, “You'll meet them at Christmas, I guess,” over the phone to his mum, wiping his damp palms on his pyjamas.

“Well, you've made us wait long enough,” His mum says.

“I know,” Dan says, biting back all of his comments about how much he misses Phil. He's waited long enough, too.

It's four days until Phil comes home, and the closer the day gets the more antsy and impatient Dan feels. He wants time to fly by, but it seems contented to crawl along at a snail pace and leave him to suffer in its wake.

-

The night before Phil's return, Dan doesn't bother sleeping.

He knows he won't be able to anyway, so he stays up and decorates his entire flat. He dots his lopsided tree with fuzzy bunny and robin and reindeer baubles, and he drapes tinsel over things that he's never draped tinsel over in his life.

He ends up sitting on his kitchen counter at four in the morning, drinking Phil's gross instant coffee and absently watching the lights on the tree blinking on and off.

He feels like a kid on Christmas Eve. His eyes are dry and he can't keep still, eventually hopping to his feet and pacing back and forth, throwing discarded socks into the laundry basket.

Soon, Phil will be back. Soon they'll be able to sit on the sofa together. Soon they'll be exchanging gifts, and eating pizza. Soon Dan'll be able to pull Phil close by his belt loops, a move that Phil used to complain about but then in a sleepy early morning moment admitted that he really liked.

He ends up heading into work hours before he's meant to, even in his capacity as superior tech in training. The hydroshuttle's on it's first cycle of the day and the sun isn't even up yet, so he ends up walking across to the deck in the dark, Christmas lights winking at him from the windows of passing houses.

It's Christmas, he thinks, feeling giddy. Phil's coming home, and it's _Christmas_.

-

At the facility, PJ's one of the first people he sees. “Merry Christmas,” He says, and hands Dan a takeaway coffee cup. “Got you this. I guessed you'd show up around the same time as me.”

“Mm,” Dan says, taking a sip. It's hot chocolate. “I couldn't sleep. I _didn't_ sleep, I'm,” He wiggles his fingers by his head, articulately.

“Your brain's turned to mush 'cause your boyfriend's coming home, I get you,” PJ says, with a grin.

“Ugh,” Dan says, but he ends up smiling back. “You can't even – I'm feeling so great today, everything's so _great_.”

“I'm starting to think giving you that was a mistake,” PJ says, laughing at him. “Come on, if you're gonna be here so early you can help me go through the preliminary preparations.”

-

An hour later, Dan finds himself in the middle of a field on an icy cold morning in the middle of December.

“No running off this time,” A black-clad tech tells him. Dan recognises him as the guy who'd let him go over to the pod the first time he'd ever met Phil in person. It's a combination of that, the lack of sleep and the amount of caffeine he's consumed that makes him beam at the guy.

“No running off,” He agrees, even though he's jittering in place a little, feeling unsteady with nerves. “I mean, I have clearance to run off this time, like – I'm wearing the uniform and everything.”

The guy just looks at him, expression unreadable. Dan wonders if these guys learn their poker faces as part of their essential training.

“It itches,” He tells Dan, after a moment's silence.

“I did notice that, yeah,” Dan says, shifting uncomfortably on the spot.

There's a silence, in which Dan finds himself staring upwards, hoping for a sign of anything, a little black speck in the pink sky, _anything_.

“It's nice,” The tech says, when Dan's bouncing on the balls of his feet and checking his watch for the millionth time, neck hurting with how much he's been looking up. “I mean, that you'd do all this for him.”

Dan stands for a moment, frozen with surprise.

“Oh,” He says.

The tech shrugs.

“Just saying,” He says, gruffly.

“No, I – I – thanks,” Dan says, and then stares out across the field, grinning to himself. “I – it's really selfish, actually. I mean, I'm here for _me_ , if that makes sense? Like, _I_ want to see him, so...It's not really, like, selfless, or anything.”

“Still nice,” The tech says.

Dan smiles at him, then looks back out across the field. He thinks about Phil, about how part of him is desperate to just burst out with everything good and kind about him, just so this guy knows why he's waiting out in a field in the cold for him to come back. He thinks about Phil, and the way he'd said _I want to make sure everyone knows that we're_ us.

He looks up at the sky again, pink-edged clouds gradually giving way to blue, the moon hanging there like a smudge of chalk in the brightness. There's no sign of the pod, and the recovery team are still setting up, taking photographs of the field from every conceivable angle.

Feeling like he's in a dream, Dan fishes his phone out of the pocket of his scratchy black trousers and calls his mum.

“Oh, hello,” She says, picking up on the second ring. “What's got you out of bed so early? I thought you didn't start work til ten on Fridays.”

“I'm in early today,” Dan says. “It's, er. The descent's today. Phil – the astronaut I work with, Phil, he's coming back from Mars. Today.”

“Ok,” His mum says. “Listen, love, I've been meaning to ask you-”

“And you'll get to meet him at Christmas,” Dan carries on, in a rush, very aware of the hulking presence of the tech standing next to him. “Phil, I mean. Because – he's my boyfriend, and I haven't asked him if he wants to come with me yet, but like I said he gets back today and I realised I hadn't told you, and – and hopefully he'll say yes, and you'll get to meet him, and – and he's really kind, and funny, and – and I think I love him, so.” He lets out a shaky breath, feeling a little lost, silence deafening down the phone line. “Anyway, I'm at the landing site, so I should go, I'm not supposed to make calls during work hours-”

“Does he like sprouts?”

“Sorry?”

“Sprouts,” Dan's mum says. “Only your dad's gone and bought three lots, and I know you don't like them, and God knows I don't, so if he likes them at least I know we can get rid of a few.” She pauses, while Dan reels. “Maybe I could send him home with some in a container-”

“ _Mum_.”

“Oh, Dan,” His mum says, sounding fond. “I know you think I don't pay attention half the time, but I think after about the second time of you making _that face_ when your dad said something about you having a girlfriend, I started to wonder.”

“Mum,” Dan says, half laughing, giddy with relief. “What's _that face_ , oh my God.”

“You know which one I mean,” She says, and he can hear the smile in her voice. “You got that off me, you know.”

“I know,” Dan says. Suddenly, there's a flurry of movement, the black clad techs moving to the edges of the field. Dan looks up and sees the craft in the air, a dark dot in the morning sky. “Oh God, fuck, oh – sorry mum, I have to go, I'm really sorry, I – thank you, ok?”

“No need to thank me,” She says. “Love you. Ask him about the sprouts.”

“Oh my God, I – I love you,” Dan says, nearly dropping his phone on the ground in his haste to hang up. He thinks he's going to be sick, but it's more with excitement than it was the first time he went through all this. “Sorry about that.”

The tech next to him shrugs again.

“Looks like a smooth descent,” He says.

“I'm gonna throw up,” Dan says, even though he isn't. He doesn't know how else to describe the feeling of watching the rickety little pod coming into land, a stupid piece of equipment with no idea how important its cargo is to him. He feels like his insides are inflating like balloons, like Phil's going to come into land and he's about to float off, away into the sky, because knowing that he's moments away from being able to touch Phil again is enough to make him feel as light as air. “Oh God, oh God-”

Dan's radio bleeps.

“Remember to breathe, please,” PJ says, his voice crackling through the tiny speaker.

“I'm breathing,” Dan says, even though he's not sure, as the pod touches down with nothing more than a gentle bump and a flurry of wind. “I'm – oh God, Peej, I'm not, I-” He looks across at the tech guy, who holds up his hands.

“You have clearance to do all the running you want this time, don't look at me,” He says.

Dan doesn't need to be told twice. He joins the swarm of techs moving over to the pod, as it bleeps on the ground, doors slowly opening. Phil told Dan that the seatbelts are a pain in the neck to get out of, so he knows he won't be able to get out for a moment, but that doesn't stop him half-pushing past his fellow techs to get to there quicker.

This time, he's not the only person running.

“Pilot Lester, you need to wait for the preliminary tests-”

“I'm fine, I'm fine, I don't need – look, I'm alive, aren't I? Just – give me a minute-”

And then Phil himself pushes past a tech, white spacesuit hurting Dan's eyes in the few seconds before they bump into each other.

“Ouch,” Dan says, laughing, burying his face in the scratchy shoulder of Phil's spacesuit, holding on tight.

“You just, like, headbutted me,” Phil says, not letting go.

“Sorry, sorry,” Dan says, feeling his eyes prickle. He squeezes them shut, clutching Phil's back like part of him's worried he might disappear again.

They pull back for a moment, and Dan gets to drink in the way Phil's face looks in the pale morning light, hair sticking up at odd angles because of his helmet, smiling so wide the corners of his eyes are all crinkled up in the way Dan loves so much.

“Pilot Lester,” One of the techs is saying.

“One second,” Phil says, not looking away from Dan.

Dan feels small, dwarfed by the size of the emotions that are spilling out of him. He's dimly aware of his face muscles aching from how much he's smiling, and then Phil's kissing him. Dan hates public displays - he hates the thought of attracting stares, but he hates being away from Phil more.

“Pilot Lester,” The tech says, again.

Dan pulls back, doing his best to ignore Phil's little noise of disappointment.

“You've got work to do,” He says, softly.

“Ugh,” Phil says, and reaches out to take hold of his hand.

“Pilot L-”

“Ok, ok, I'm here,” Phil says, exasperated but still smiling, holding Dan's hand tight. “Do whatever you want, guys, I'm sorry.”

He doesn't let go of Dan's hand the entire time.

-

They spend the shuttle ride home squashed into one seat together. It's probably not necessary – one of them could stand up, but they're caught in the Christmas rush and Dan hadn't wanted to leave Phil, even if only to stand on the other side of the compartment for a few minutes.

They're awkwardly folded together, and Dan thinks that the rest of the compartment could be empty for all he cares. Especially considering the way Phil keeps kissing his knuckles, bringing Dan's hand up to his mouth in such a way that means he keeps breathing over Dan's skin and making him shudder.

“What's this about?” Dan says, trying to cover how flustered he feels with teasing. “Have you been watching rom coms? Space rom coms?”

“I like your hands,” Phil says, not taking the bait. Dan swallows, mouth feeling very dry all of a sudden.

“I like them too,” Dan says, stupidly, watching Phil kiss his knuckles again. “I mean, they – they're pretty good at, like, opening jars, and – and sending texts, and -”

“Other stuff,” Phil says, intently.

“Other stuff,” Dan agrees, faintly. He can't stop the way his eyes can't decide which bit of Phil they want to look at, darting from his mouth to his eyes to the way his hair's falling over his forehead, the line of his nose when he ducks his head to kiss Dan's hand again. “It's so good to have you back.”

Phil looks up at him, his intense look breaking into a blinding smile.

“It's so good to be back,” He says, squeezing Dan's hand in his. “I didn't think it'd be that difficult, to - to be away, but it was so _weird_ , I dunno. I feel like I should've thought it through more.”

Dan doesn't say anything. Phil's job is his business – the last thing he wants is for him to feel like he has to stop doing what he loves because of _Dan_. Even so, it's good to hear that Phil missed him, too.

-

When they reach Dan's apartment building, everything devolves into a race to get into Dan's flat as quickly as possible.

“Key card, key card-”

“I have it here somewhere – Phil-”

“Look faster,” Phil says, all intense again, and Dan really would if he'd give him a little more room to manouvre. Phil's jaw's right there, anyway, right near his face, so he kisses it once, twice, maybe three times, until Phil makes a noise and grips his hip, tightly.

“Key card,” Phil says, hoarsely.

“Got it,” Dan says, finally finding it in his coat pocket. “Gimme – one second-”

They fall into the flat in a jumble of limbs, and Dan slams the door shut behind them, already resolving to apologize to his neighbours later. Dan turns on his heel, expecting to find Phil looking back at him, but instead -

“You decorated,” Phil says, mystified.

“What?” Dan says, stupidly. Then, after a moment of actually using his brain, he adds, “Yeah. I got new decorations.”

“You got little animals!” Phil says, hurrying over to the tree to peer at the fuzzy baubles. “Oh my God, there are rabbits!”

“They didn't have dogs,” Dan says. “Which feels like some kind of discrimination, I dunno. But look, there were -”

“Reindeer, oh my God,” Phil says, eyes bright in the glow of the Christmas tree lights.

Dan swallows, feeling overwhelmed. Phil's back – he's here, and it's _Christmas_.

“You didn't have to decorate like this,” Phil says.

“Yeah I did,” Dan says. “It's _Christmas_ , Phil, you're not all that.” He laughs at the affronted look on Phil's face, and leans in to kiss him. “I'm kidding, I'm kidding.” He kisses him again. “Now, weren't we-? I'm pretty sure we were doing something...?”

Phil laughs, soft and warm, and slips his hand under Dan's t-shirt.

“Oh yeah,” He says, pulling Dan close. “I think I had a few ideas.”

-

Dan ends up sleeping for so long that it's early evening when he wakes up. He reaches out across the bed, smiling lazily to himself, and slowly opens his eyes when he realises he's alone.

His heart clenches for all of half a second, thinking that maybe it was all a dream, somehow, and Phil's not due home yet – but then he hears off-key singing coming from the living room, and the shuffling footsteps of someone with the uncanny ability to bang his shins on every available piece of furniture.

He turns over and laughs into a pillow that smells like Phil's hair.

-

“Remind me again why we're doing this?”

“Because,” Phil says, letting Dan reach over and straighten his shirt collar. “It's Christmas, and we love PJ. Also technically it's a party for me.”

“Actually I'm pretty sure Peej just told you that to trick you into showing up,” Dan says, leaving Phil's collar and opening his front camera so he can sort out his hair. “It's just a Christmas party.”

“A Christmas Phil party,” Phil says. “Because I braved the solar system and now I'm home.”

“Whatever makes you happy,” Dan says, grinning, and kisses him. It's a quick kiss – the hydrodeck's full of Christmas shoppers, and even though he's pretty sure nobody's looking their way he doesn't want to risk it.

Phil smiles at him.

“Thanks for coming with me,” He says, sincerely. “Honestly. I know you hate these things.”

“I don't hate them,” Dan protests. “I just – don't like them.”

“Yeah, exactly,” Phil says. “But there's booze, so that's good.”

“Right, yeah,” Dan says, darkly. “Because it's a great idea to get wasted and tell all those fuckers just what I think of them and their bloody archives and their-”

“Yeah, ok, forget I mentioned the booze,” Phil says, rolling his eyes.

Dan just waggles his eyebrows at him.

-

The party itself is just as abysmal as Dan was expecting. Throwing some tinsel over the workstations in the control room doesn't make for a brilliant festive atmosphere, and neither do the bowls of punch or the sensationally sad looking Christmas tree, which is real and appears to be dying, shedding spines on the carpet.

“Same,” Dan says when he sees it, just to make Phil laugh.

“Shut up,” Phil says, hiding his smile behind his hand.

He goes to get the two of them glasses of punch. Afterwards, they stand in a safe corner and survey the room together. Or rather, Phil surveys the room – Dan looks at Phil instead.

“You weren't here last year, were you,” Phil says, twisting their fingers together.

“Nope,” Dan says, rolling his eyes a little at the way Phil's smiling at him. “What? I'm pretty sure I didn't miss anything.”

“You didn't,” Phil says, squeezing his hand. “I was just thinking I'd have noticed you if you'd been here last year, that's all.”

Dan scoffs and then laughs, just because Phil's grinning.

“Shut up, oh my God.”

“Seriously!” Phil says, trying to pull him in closer. Dan's dimly aware of everyone else in the room, so he resists a little. “I mean, like, I think I would've noticed the only other guy tall enough to get hit on the head by the mistletoe on the way out of the room.”

“Right, yeah, that's understandable,” Dan says, half-laughing.

“And, like, everything else,” Phil says, smile fading a little, his eyes bright and looking intently at Dan's face. “Like, I dunno. Just you, I guess. You're very noticeable.”

“I know,” Dan says, pulling a face. “You don't need to tell _me_ that.”

“I mean in a good way, shut up,” Phil says. “You're like – pretty. And you have a sad dimple.”

He reaches up to touch Dan's cheek with his fingertip, and Dan feels himself growing warm, shifting awkwardly in place.

“How alcoholic is that punch?” He says, trying to laugh a little to alleviate the weight of the look Phil's giving him. “You nerd.” When Phil just grins at him, he adds, “I thought it was my wit and my, like, _intelligence_ that you were into, anyway. Here's me thinking you're all, like, spiritual and stuff-”

He ends up laughing just because Phil snorts and tries to dig his fingers into a ticklish spot on his side.

“I was trying to be smooth, oh my God,” Phil says, when Dan's still laughing. “I was trying to be like, _you're the kind of guy I would've noticed_. It was a compliment!”

“Smooth,” Dan says, and ends up laughing again. “No, no, I'm sorry,” He adds, when Phil makes a show of letting go of Dan's hand. “You're very smooth, you're like – you're like peanut butter, I dunno, Jesus.”

And Dan ends up kissing him, even though he'd resolved not to on the way here for fear of what people would think. When Phil squeezes his hand again and reaches up to gently touch the side of his face, he realises he doesn't give a shit about what anyone else thinks.

“I'm smooth,” Phil says, quietly, when their noses are touching.

Dan feels punch drunk and a little stupid, blinking suddenly when he pulls back, feeling like he'd been in a dimly lit room and the lights suddenly got flicked on.

“Totally,” He says.

Phil's hand's a little damp in his, and he's about to let go when Phil detaches himself to wipe his palm on his jeans.

“Sorry,” He says, bashfully, and Dan has to make a conscious effort not to kiss him again. That can wait til later. “Should we, like, mingle, d'you think?” After Dan gives him a look, he adds, “What?”

“You're a mingler.”

Phil shrugs.

“I guess. I mean, only with the people I know.”

“You know everyone!” Dan points out. “Oh my God, I'm officially, like – I'm with a mingler. The truth comes out at last.”

“What, was that a dealbreaker?” Phil teases. "Are you gonna dump me now?"

“No,” Dan scoffs. He likes the way that sounds – like the idea of him and Phil breaking up is something laughable, and not something he worries about.

When Dan looks at Phil, it seems like he might be thinking along the same lines.

Dan's always hated people who are stupid with how much they're into another person – he's never had patience for blissful sighs and secretive smiles, it always makes him want to make exaggerated throwing up noises over how gross it is. Even so, when he looks at Phil he loses his train of thought, somehow – somewhere in the soft look in his eyes.

He has to force himself to look away across the room, twisting his hands together to stop himself doing something he'll regret.

His eyes land on PJ, who's across the room, leaning against one of the tinsel-covered workstations and talking to a red-haired woman.

“Peej pulled,” He says, absent mindedly.

“Oh, she gets him every year,” Phil tells him, shuffling in until their shoulders touch, the two of them watching the room side by side. “See the desperation in his eyes?”

On a second look, PJ seems less like he's casually leaning against the workstation and more like he's been backed up against it with no possible hope of escape.

“Oh God,” Dan says, laughing guiltily. “We should rescue him, shouldn't we? That's probably why he wanted us to show up.”

“Probably,” Phil says. He slips his arm through Dan's. “Let's go for a walk.”

“What kind of walk?” Dan says, his treacherous brain thinking of the empty solo control rooms and his own superior tech pass card, tucked away in his back pocket. “Oh my God, we're gonna mingle, aren't we?”

“Yep,” Phil says, giving him this unbearably sweet little smile. “And then, like, if we find our way into a solo control room, like...well, it's Christmas, and I'm pretty sure they can't fire us...”

“Oh my God,” Dan says, feeling himself flush.

Phil just laughs, grinning over at him, and his smile's so bright that Dan has to admit to himself – he's definitely one of those people, the _stupidly into someone_ people. He's probably been that person for a long time, but it's only just now really occurring to him.

Something about the realisation makes him snake his arm out of Phil's hold in favour of grabbing his hand instead.

“Come on, then,” He says, darting in to kiss Phil on the cheek. It's worth it for how pink he goes, and his pleased smile. “I don't mingle for just _anyone_ , you know.”

“I know,” Phil says, with that soft look in his eyes again.

-

They get a taxi home that night. It's a quiet ride – Phil's slumped on Dan's shoulder, a combination of tiredness and several glasses of punch leading to him using Dan as a human cushion.

Dan doesn't mind. He strokes the back of Phil's hand where it rests on his leg and looks out of the window at the Christmas lights twinkling in passing windows.

“Mmf,” Phil says. “Where are we?”

“Nearly home,” Dan says, voice barely a whisper. He's quiet for a moment, looking out of the window. “Hey, Phil.”

“Mm?”

“You know I love you, right?” Dan doesn't think he's ever said heavier words in his life. He feels Phil straightening up next to him, so he hurries to continue before he has to acknowledge that he's just fucked everything up. “I've been thinking about it, I dunno. For a while now. And I know we haven't been together that long – Christ, we haven't even _known_ each other that long, and if you feel like this is – it's too much, or whatever, then I completely understand, and – and I'm sorry, I shouldn't have – I just thought, because it's Christmas, I-”

“Same,” Phil blurts out. Dan pauses, then turns to look at him – at the way his eyes glint in the gloom, his pale skin partly drenched in the yellow glow of passing streetlights. “I mean, me too. I mean – yeah.”

“Yeah?” Dan says. He feels small again, but it's a good feeling – it's a _right_ feeling.

He thinks he's always going to be smaller than the way he feels about Phil.

“Yeah,” Phil says, and laughs, the same way he laughs when Dan's caught him doing something he shouldn't have – giddy and childlike. “Yeah, I love you. God. Of course I do.”

He's still laughing when he leans over and kisses Dan.

“Are you sure?” Dan says, a moment later. “Because – you're laughing kind of a lot right now, and I'm just – you know, I don't want to get the wrong idea-”

“Oh my God, shut up,” Phil says, beaming, and kisses him again.


End file.
